Early June was rioting in fresh grasses,bright flowers,bird songs,and gay-winged creatures of air.Down the footpath the two went through the perfect morning,the love of God and all nature in their hearts.At last they reached the creek,following it toward the bridge.Here Mrs.
Comstock found a large bed of tender dandelions and stopped to fill her pail.Then she sat on the bank,picking over the greens,while she listened to the creek softly singing its June song.
Elnora remained within calling distance,and was having good success.At last she crossed the creek,following it up to a bridge.There she began a careful examination of the under sides of the sleepers and flooring for cocoons.
Mrs.Comstock could see her and the creek for several rods above.The mother sat beating the long green leaves across her hand,carefully picking out the white buds,because Elnora liked them,when a splash up the creek attracted her attention.
Around the bend came a man.He was bareheaded,dressed in a white sweater,and waders which reached his waist.He walked on the bank,only entering the water when forced.He had a queer basket strapped on his hip,and with a small rod he sent a long line spinning before him down the creek,deftly manipulating with it a little floating object.He was closer Elnora than her mother,but Mrs.Comstock thought possibly by hurrying she could remain unseen and yet warn the girl that a stranger was coming.As she approached the bridge,she caught a sapling and leaned over the water to call Elnora.With her lips parted to speak she hesitated a second to watch a sort of insect that flashed past on the water,when a splash from the man attracted the girl.
She was under the bridge,one knee planted in the embankment and a foot braced to support her.Her hair was tousled by wind and bushes,her face flushed,and she lifted her arms above her head,working to loosen a cocoon she had found.The call Mrs.Comstock had intended to utter never found voice,for as Elnora looked down at the sound,"Possibly I could get that for you,"suggested the man.
Mrs.Comstock drew back.He was a young man with a wonderfully attractive face,although it was too white for robust health,broad shoulders,and slender,upright frame.
"Oh,I do hope you can!"answered Elnora."It's quite a find!It's one of those lovely pale red cocoons described in the books.I suspect it comes from having been in a dark place and screened from the weather.""Is that so?"cried the man."Wait a minute.I've never seen one.I suppose it's a Cecropia,from the location.""Of course,"said Elnora."It's so cool here the moth hasn't emerged.The cocoon is a big,baggy one,and it is as red as fox tail.""What luck!"he cried."Are you making a collection?"He reeled in his line,laid his rod across a bush and climbed the embankment to Elnora's side,produced a knife and began the work of whittling a deep groove around the cocoon.
"Yes.I paid my way through the high school in Onabasha with them.Now I am starting a collection which means college.""Onabasha!"said the man."That is where I am visiting.
Possibly you know my people--Dr.Ammon's?The doctor is my uncle.My home is in Chicago.I've been having typhoid fever,something fierce.In the hospital six weeks.
Didn't gain strength right,so Uncle Doc sent for me.
I am to live out of doors all summer,and exercise until I get in condition again.Do you know my uncle?""Yes.He is Aunt Margaret's doctor,and he would be ours,only we are never ill.""Well,you look it!"said the man,appraising Elnora at a glance.
"Strangers always mention it,"sighed Elnora."I wonder how it would seem to be a pale,languid lady and ride in a carriage.""Ask me!"laughed the man."It feels like the--dickens!
I'm so proud of my feet.It's quite a trick to stand on them now.I have to keep out of the water all I can and stop to baby every half-mile.But with interesting outdoor work I'll be myself in a week.""Do you call that work?"Elnora indicated the creek.
"I do,indeed!Nearly three miles,banks too soft to brag on and never a strike.Wouldn't you call that hard labour?""Yes,"laughed Elnora."Work at which you might kill yourself and never get a fish.Did any one tell you there were trout in Sleepy Snake Creek?""Uncle said I could try."
"Oh,you can,"said Elnora."You can try no end,but you'll never get a trout.This is too far south and too warm for them.If you sit on the bank and use worms you might catch some perch or catfish.""But that isn't exercise."
"Well,if you only want exercise,go right on fishing.
You will have a creel full of invisible results every night.""I object,"said the man emphatically.He stopped work again and studied Elnora.Even the watching mother could not blame him.In the shade of the bridge Elnora's bright head and her lavender dress made a picture worthy of much contemplation.
"I object!"repeated the man."When I work I want to see results.I'd rather exercise sawing wood,making one pile grow little and the other big than to cast all day and catch nothing because there is not a fish to take.
Work for work's sake doesn't appeal to me."He digged the groove around the cocoon with skilled hand.
"Now there is some fun in this!"he said.It's going to be a fair job to cut it out,but when it comes,it is not only beautiful,but worth a price;it will help you on your way.I think I'll put up my rod and hunt moths.
That would be something like!Don't you want help?"Elnora parried the question."Have you ever hunted moths,Mr.Ammon?
"Enough to know the ropes in taking them and to distinguish the commonest ones.I go wild on Catocalae.
There's too many of them,all too much alike for Philip,but I know all these fellows.One flew into my room when I was about ten years old,and we thought it a miracle.
None of us ever had seen one so we took it over to the museum to Dr.Dorsey.He said they were common enough,but we didn't see them because they flew at night.
He showed me the museum collection,and I was so interested I took mine back home and started to hunt them.
